Personal Preference
by The Dramatic Sneeze
Summary: Based off of the prompt: Annie and Mitchell talk about their kinks.


_A/N: The amount of balls I had to grow to post this... Fair warning: Things get a bit non-explicitly smutty in the end. I tried not to make anyone OOC, but damn, romance is hard. Enjoy, I hope!_

* * *

There's something about being a ghost that makes you disregard the insecurities that held you down in your life. It makes you realize how little time you may be allowed to fulfill any dreams you may have had. Annie considers herself a relatively proper lady, but she will be the first to admit that one of the things she misses most about being human is sex. She isn't sure how, but her ethereal body seems keen on reminding her lately how much she truly misses it.

It isn't surprising, really. It's a basic human function, instinctual and right. While her body may have failed her, her mind and spirit aren't lacking and it's damn frustrating. Especially when Mitchell has to go around with those skin-tight jeans and the damn leather jacket that stretches over his shoulder muscles and that stupid smirk of his and-

It's just nerves, she convinces herself. Hell, if George hadn't been working the night shift she'd probably be mind-shagging him as well.

Mitchell _damn him_ notices her irritation when she finds him emerging from a steaming shower with dripping hair and a towel wrapped low around his waist. The concern begins when she whirls around to stomp down the stairs and throw herself on the couch in frustration. When he inevitably checks on her a few minutes later, she barely registers the worry in his eyes because she's too distracted by how fucking low his jeans are riding on his hips and she swears he does this on purpose. Perhaps she should ask him.

Ghost horniness had to be in the Vampire's Guide to the Supernatural somewhere.

Suddenly, he's inches in front of her face, waving a gloved hand in front of her eyes.

"Annie?" his voice finally registers, "Is everything alright? You seem upset."

She forces a smile, "Alright? Yeah, yeah everything's fine." Annie clears her throat and forces herself to smile and avert her eyes, "Why do you ask?"

The couch dips next to her and stiffens in an attempt not to slide into him. The woman shifts in her seat, catching his accusatory gaze and dismissing it with a wave of her hand. "It's really, it's nothing. I don't want you to worry, Mitchell."

The man's brows furrow, "You could never worry me."

Annie smiles gratefully, and is thankful when he doesn't press the subject. It's just her luck when she picks up the remote that the first thing to pop up on the screen is the surprisingly graphic image of two people shagging.

Heat rises in her cheeks as she fumbles to change the channel, "God, what do you boys watch when I'm not around?"

"We do not watch that sort of stuff together." Mitchell defends past the bottle at his lips, "Don't tell me you've never seen porn before, Annie."

"No!" her voice is about two octaves higher than it should be. "I mean, not- I haven't..."

Mitchell's accusing, self-satisfied gaze doesn't waver.

She sighs, "I had a book."

The laugh that emits from his throat is hearty and does much to ease the embarrassment which was eating away at her. The soft, teasing sing-song of his voice wafts past his glass. "Annie reads po-orn."

"It so wasn't porn!" she defends, "It was- It was an erotic novel! A novel, mind you! With a real plot, not just two mates shagging the whole time!"

Mitchell gives an unimpressed grunt, "And what exactly was the plot?"

The woman opens her mouth, and immediately finds herself at a loss for words.

"I'd thought so." the flustered sigh she emits stretches his grin, "I'm only teasing you, Annie."

"I know that!" she shrieks, "I'm just saying... Sometimes, you need... Someone to give you ideas!"

The vampire's brows shoot upward and he instantly looks more interested in the conversation. "Ideas." he repeats, "You're young, you really got that bored?"

"Oi, I don't know. We'd tried bondage, once."

When Mitchell says nothing, she risks a tentative glance at him to find the man's eyebrows have shot up to his hairline, while his slightly-smirking mouth hangs slightly agape. A giggle slips past her lips and is quickly joined by his breathy chuckle as they each take in the confession.

"God," she laughs softly "Now you probably think I'm this S&M, leather-face freak..."

"I don't." Mitchell's grin widens at the influx of rose in her cheeks, "It just wasn't what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

The man laughs, "Maybe food-play. You seem like the strawberries dipped in chocolate kind of girl."

"That sounds fantastic. Haven't tried them outside the kitchen, though."

They go over the things she has tried.

Roleplaying. Pegging. Autoerotic asphyxiation.

"Annie, Annie Sawyer." He teases accusingly, "There's a whole side of you we haven't met yet, isn't there?"

They talk about the side he knows a bit better.

She loves cuddling, being tickled and slow sex.

The woman giggles bashfully, "What about you, then? What sort of escapades has the great John Mitchell found himself in over the years?"

Threesome is about as far as it goes.

"I'm a simple man." he explains. She's a bit surprised he tells her anything at all, because Mitchell is a relatively private man. Then the two empty beer bottles and the slight flush in his cheeks gains her attention.

Annie bites her lip, "And have any of these women... Survived?" The laughter dissipates from his averted eyes as quickly as water from a falling tide. "Oh- oh, I'm sorry, Mitchell." she corrects quickly, "Well, may I ask? What about before you were recruited? Oh, it must be hard for you to remember that far. Not that you're old or anything. Well, you are, but-"

"Annie, it's okay." he says with a forgiving smile and she relents, "Well, there was this woman back in the sixties."

The resident ghost stiffens slightly, "A woman or a... woman?"

"If by that, you mean did I kill her?" Annie doesn't respond, but she's glad he asked the question for her. "No, I didn't. She was different, we were together for a long time."

There's a morose, longing expression which crosses his face and Annie doesn't have the heart to break him from it. Merely, she nods shyly. "Oh, right." he catches himself and she's grateful. "Well, you can imagine how difficult carrying on a relationship can be for someone like me."

"How'd you manage?" The woman ventures.

Mitchell loves foreplay, terms of endearment and has a bit of a voice fetish.

"And your relationship survived on that?"

"Not exclusively, but for the most part." The man grins and takes a swig from his glass, "Sex can't be a cornerstone of any serious relationship of mine. Besides, it's better than you'd think."

"I wouldn't know, Owen and I never really-" The vampire looks at her expectantly as she fiddles with the sleeve of her cardigan. "Well, he would know. But with me, I mean, he tried it once and then got bored pretty quickly."

Mitchell's lips form a thin line at the mention of her fiance.

"You know, that book had never been more useful than when I was with him. God." She laughs, a bit exasperatedly "We talk about it and I don't even know if I even work like that anymore."

A thought crosses Mitchell's mind.

"We could check."

He's known for his impulsiveness.

"Ch-check?"

Mitchell keeps his eyes downcast, knee bouncing anxiously as he fidgets with the frays of his gloves before he shrugs. The former man will admit, in all his suavity, he doesn't anticipate what she says next.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Annie nods, a bit eagerly as she shoves the unease out of her brain. Mitchell shakes himself out of his reverie and doesn't ask again, instead sends her a soft, reassuring smile. As he moves off of the couch and onto his knees, she's positive he can hear the thudding in her overdue heart.

Suddenly, he's presenting her with a throw-pillow and she can only imagine what it's for. The woman takes it and laughs nervously, "Someone thinks rather highly of himself."

The man only smirks before ducking down to part her knees with his hands.

"There's-" A chill runs down her spine as his hands slide down her leggings and begin to peel them off of her skin, "There's nothing weird about this, right?"

A skilled tongue slides over her hipbone and under the string of her thong and she can _feel it, _"Mh'right."

"This is just one friend helping another friend sort herself out."

"Absolutely."

"Nothing weird about it."

"Nothing at all."

"Is it weird?"

"Mph."

"_Hell-o_... Mitchell, is it weird?"

"M'you think so?

'Maybe. I don't know, I mean-I mean how will this affect our friendship- God, _M-Mitchell_!"

She can feel his smug grin, "Feeling anything?"

The pillow comes in handy, and Annie doesn't form another coherent word for the rest of the night.

It's not because it's Mitchell, it's just a lucky night for ghost anatomy.

No, definitely not because it's Mitchell.

But she doesn't have another problem for quite a while, after that.


End file.
